Chapter 21 #2
Shaking my head, I hoist up toward the propped-up car hood and grab another wrench. This time, I’m determined to let AC/DC drown out the outside world and let my hands work faster than my brain.
I’ve always enjoyed working on cars, even when I was little.
From the time I was old enough to operate an impact, I was a goner.
There was something freeing about building an engine from scratch.
I liked being able to fix something with my bare hands.
It made me feel useful in a world that had deemed me useless.
I almost have the bolt loosened when the side door to my garage flings open. I lose hold of the wrench again, but this time my hand slips completely and slices across something, cutting open my hand. I quickly grip the area before blood can drip out and turn to the hurricane that just blew in.
"You have some nerve, Knox Cooke,” Emery shouts, pointing a long finger accusingly at me. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day, and you’ve been ignoring me. You never—why the hell haven’t you been answering your texts?”
A smile curls up my lips, distracting me from the throbbing pain I’m clutching onto.
Emery looks breathtaking as always, with her hair swept up into a messy bun and a long T-shirt that almost covers the tiny shorts peeking out from underneath.
Her eyes are wild, and her chest is rising and falling in perfect rhythm with my own heartbeat.
“You got bangs,” I smile, noticing the way they fall out of the pile of hair on her head. “I like them.”
Emery’s face turns a light shade of pink, causing me to forget about the pain in my hand altogether. She drops her mean girl mask for two seconds before bouncing back into it. “God, you always do this. I asked why you’re not answering your texts?”
I grin wider. “When someone gives you a compliment, you’re obligated to say thank you.”
She narrows her brows and pushes her lips together before ending it with a grand finale of an Emery classic—the eye roll. “Fine, idiot. Thank you. Now answer the damn question.”
“You’re welcome.” I smirk, letting out a small wince when I move my hand.
Her eyes flicker to my injury. “What happened?” she asks, not hesitating to step forward and grab my hand. The motion sends goosebumps down my spine.
“I—um—I cut my hand on one of the bolts. It’s not deep. I just need a Band-Aid.”
“Let me see,” she asks, peeling back my blood-soaked hand. “You need to clean this before it gets infected. Do you have a first aid kit?”
“I’m fine, Bambi. Really. I—”
“First aid kit, Knox,” Emery snaps. “Don’t fight me. You’re already at the top of my shit list, and I’m afraid you can’t go any higher.”
“Sounds like a challenge.” I smirk, but hiss when I bump the cut. “Fine. There’s a bathroom in the corner. It’s in the cabinet above the sink.”
She nods in triumph. “Okay, great. Follow me so I can clean out the cut first. I’m assuming you have towels in there, too?”
I nod and follow her without another word. I’m curious to see Emery's nurturing side. I truly didn’t think she had it in her.
It’s a tight squeeze into the small half bath, but we make it work. She grabs my shoulders and makes me lean up against the counter as she washes the blood out of my cut.
“I can do that,” I argue, trying to wiggle my hand out of hers. Typically, I’d eat this shit up, but being in a bathroom reminds me of the one time we… Well yeah. And the whole small space thing is not helping. It makes me never want to give her space again.
Emery firmly grips my wrist and threateningly raises her eyebrows before going back to work. “Why are you being such a baby? I thought guys loved the whole nurse thing.”
I lick my lips, picturing her in a sultry nurse’s costume that is two sizes too small. “Don’t get me wrong,” I say, clearing my throat. “I do. But in my head I’m picturing something a lot less antiseptic and a lot more naked.”
She rolls her eyes and gently dabs the cut. I bite my lip, trying not to squeal from the pain. And then she uses an alcohol wipe, and it’s a whole new wave of agony. I can’t stop the high-pitched whine even if I want to. “Oof,” I breathe out.
“That’s what you get for being a perv,” she says, trying to hide the laugh she’s attempting to cover up. “I just need to bandage it, and you’ll be as good as new.”
I nod and watch her small hands delicately place a Band-aid on the cut. Her eyes stay glued to her work, and it gives me time to soak up every last freckle on her cheeks. God, she’s so beautiful it hurts sometimes. Well, in this case, it actually does hurt…a lot.
“Okay, you’re all—” Emery starts to say, but stops when she looks up, and her eyes connect with mine. Her big doe eyes stare up at me as she realizes how close we are. I can feel the warmth of her breath caress my cheek, and her lips are so close that it makes me want to do something reckless.
And I’m completely prepared to throw all of my logical plans out the window for one more taste until she stops me. “Knox, I came here to talk to you about something.”
A cement block bottoms out in my stomach. An endless slew of possibilities flashes through my mind. “What is it, Bambi?”
She swallows hard and takes a small step back. The space is so tight, her back is nearly pressed against the opposite wall. “Can we talk out in the shop? I’m finding it difficult to focus in here.”
I ignore the need to make a smart comment. “Yeah, sure. Lead the way.”
Once we’re out in the wide-open space of my garage, my head feels clearer. “Are you fake breaking up with me, Bambi?” I joke, even though I’m praying the answer is no.
“No, that’s not it,” she answers, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. I’m not proud of how relieved I am to hear that. “I want to talk about the affair.”